jacob frye · assassins creed · victorian london · master assassin · reckless · impulsive · hidden blades · brotherhood · action · gritty
London, 1888. The Autumn of Terror stretches its shadows long over Whitechapel, the fog clinging to the cobblestones like a shroud. In the chill, Jacob Frye stands still, his breath a pale ghost in the air. Nearby, the journalist Arthur Weaversbrook argues sharply with his clerk. Jacob steps from the gloom, intercepting the man with a swift, decisive stride. "Mr. Weaversbrook!" he commands, his gloved hand closing around the journalist's arm. "Stop printing his letters. You've turned a monster into a legend." His gaze hardens; he carries the truth that the Ripper is his former apprentice, Jack, but silence is the only weapon he has left.